Archives for February 2015

On Wednesday, Feb. 25, adjunct instructors will collect their texts and gradebooks, put down their dry erase markers and Walk Out of university classrooms nationwide. The purpose of National Adjunct Walkout Day is to protest the low wages, job insecurity and lack of benefits endemic to this field.

This event is about changing the conversation,San Diego Free Press reports, from “‘why don’t they just get another job?’ to ‘why does a system that claims to value education exploit 75% of its faculty?’”

The obvious answer to the latter question is because they can. Higher education budgets have been slashed in Louisiana and beyond. Departments are being eliminated. Full-time professors are being replaced by fleets of part-time, contract workers who are ineligible for benefits. In short, schools are fucking adjuncts over. But adjuncts have no control over that. They only have control over what they do. So “why don’t they just get another job?” remains a salient question. Adjuncts should Walk Out not just on Feb. 25, but every day thereafter.

I walked out, and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

For two of the six years that I taught at the university level, I was an adjunct. I adjuncted in English departments at Delgado Community College in 2009 and Baton Rouge Community College in 2005-2006. I was paid $1,800 a section. My fellow adjuncts, who trundled from campus to campus, warned me that the job was “designed to burn you out.” I wasn’t eligible for health insurance, though I did qualify for the Earned Income Credit on my taxes. One semester at Baton Rouge Community College, my classes were cancelled days before the semester started due to low enrollment, leaving me scrambling for a job. (I found one doing invoicing for a plastic hangtag manufacturer.)

I lived below poverty level. But I was aware that mine was a voluntary poverty, which in itself is a luxury. I had a master’s degree. I could have taught high school. I could have gone into PR. I could have been a copywriter. All those jobs offered a living wage, consistent employment and health insurance.

I didn’t take those jobs because at that point in my career, the time to focus on writing was more valuable than a steady paycheck. I savored the freedom and flexibility adjuncting provided. Adjuncting meant I worked 15-20 hours per week. (I only taught two or three sections, and I became remarkably efficient at planning and grading.) It meant I could cancel class without repurcussion. It gave me summers off (or, if I was teaching summer sections, generous bumpers of free time before and after the semester started.) Perhaps more importantly, it gave me an identity. And credibility. I didn’t have to tell people I was a barista who was endlessly tinkering with a manuscript. I could say, “Hi, I’m an instructor at Local College, and I’m working on a novel.”

In a lot of ways, my adjunct instructor job was an arm-candy boyfriend I could bring to parties to impress people. The trouble was, that boyfriend didn’t actually give a shit about me. Or our future.

When I started thinking hard about my career in academia, the stats foretold a bleak path: budget cuts, tenured professors who weren’t retiring and a market oversaturated with ambitious PhDs freshly minted from better schools than mine. I would almost certainly have to leave New Orleans to find full-time employment, which I wasn’t willing to do. And if I was really honest with myself, I knew I wasn’t adjuncting because my lifelong dream was to become a college professor. My lifelong dream was to become a writer. But that seemed impossible. Being a college instructor was the next best thing, sort of.

Until it wasn’t anymore. So I cut ties.

There was a rough adjustment period similar to what I’d imagine most new college grads face. Then I landed a 9-to-5 job with a salary, benefits and health insurance. The biggest downside: I only get two weeks vacation a year, and I’m jealous of my friends who teach or are in grad school. But I’m happy to have found a path that’s a much better fit for me.

Higher education needs reform. Universities are poorly administrated at best and exploitative at worst. The questions National Adjunct poses are important ones:

Are you asking why, as tuition has risen at unprecedented rates, instruction allocations have gone down? Are you asking where student fees are going? How much administrators are earning? How much money is being spent on building projects, athletics, and aesthetic upgrades?

I encourage among adjuncts an inner dialogue to complement the public dialogue we’ll have on Wednesday, Feb. 25. Question your presence in academia, question your motives, question why you continue to work for an exploitative institution.

And remember, you are smart and driven and you probably have a master’s degree. You have other options. A whole world of options that people without college degrees do not have.

Man, I am sore, burned out and suffering from king cake withdrawal right now, but I’ve got to say, Mardi Gras 2015 was the best Mardi Gras yet.

I marched in four parades with the Gris Gris Strut flag corps this year: Sparta, Druids, Krewe d’Etat and Thoth. Luckily, we didn’t get rained on once.

I absolutely love marching in parades, mostly because they’re exhausting and beautiful in a way that’s like a little microcosm of life itself. I have some pretty deep religious moments during the parades, especially when I’m marching down Canal Street and the wind is whipping proud little tut tut sounds from my flag, and the crowd is going batshit insane because IT’S CARNIVAL which means literally FAREWELL TO THE FLESH which means basically YOU’RE ALL GOING TO DIE but right now YOU’RE ALIVE and PROBABLY DRUNK.

and all this translates basically to WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

and this expression:

Photo by Carlton Mickle (www.carltonmickle,com), who I was happy to see on the parade route

So I did that four times, which was freaking rad. On Saturday, Feb. 14, I biked with Bryan to our friends’ Zach and Deidre’s house in Mid-City to watch Endymion roll. The whole neighborhood was a block party. Then we biked home and made pizza, ate chocolate and drank wine because it was Valentine’s Day, too, even though everyone sort of forgot about that because ENDYMION.

Sunday, Feb. 15, I marched in Thoth. At 6.2 miles, it’s the longest parade route. Over the week, I walked/danced more than 50 miles, either getting to parades, marching in the parade or walking home from the parades. After Thoth, 16 of us went to Juan’s Flying Burrito for double margaritas and Mexican food. The awesome waitstaff not only split our bill 16 ways, but also gave us free shots. Thanks for the Samedi Gras love, Juan’s!

Monday I went to work and skipped the parades, because it was cold and rainy and I had to wake up at SIX A.M. on Mardi Gras day. A lot of out-of-towners don’t realize Mardi Gras starts at the crack of dawn. Bryan and I raided the costume wardrobe and arrived at Jenn and Mel’s house, where our hostesses had provided mimosas and whiskey-laced coffee and I forget what other alcohols, along with Marmite-topped pastries. Excellent pre-gaming while we waited to catch St. Anne.

Hanging outside Jenn and Mel’s house

Reveling in Clouet Gardens, awaiting St. Anne.

Then we walked to Basin Street to watch Zulu, and BRYAN CAUGHT A COCONUT!!!!

Then we walked to Canal Street and St. Charles Avenue, running into tons of friends and amazing costumes along the way. My mind is blown when I think about how many people in New Orleans are secretly sewing sequins to bustiers and hot-gluing silk flowers to wigs at any given moment. We watched Rex roll by and listened to a police officer grouse: “Time and a half, brah. It’s the only thing that makes this worthwhile.”

By 2 p.m., we were starving, so we ate greasy pizza at Mardi Gras Zone because Pizza Delicious was closed. We walked home and took naps and then made two more pizzas. (I was really craving pizza), which we devoured while watching The Meeting of the Courts. I fell asleep before Rex met Comus, but whatevs, I got enough scepter action to last me until Mardi Gras 2016, I think.

So that was Mardi Gras! And now I’m super sad it’s over. What did you do for Mardi Gras day?

P.S. I didn’t take a ton of photos, but my neighbor Josh Hailey did, and they are totally worth checking out.

A few months ago, I noticed a young gray cat hanging around the house. He (or she?) spent his days lounging on the porch or deck. Unlike a lot of other neighborhood cats, he didn’t flee at the sight of me. Sometimes I’d bring a book out to the porch and we’d chill together.

In December, Bryan and I started feeding him. We set up a routine: around 6 p.m., we’d put out a food bowl. Gray the Cat (as he came to be called) learned the routine pretty quickly. It was almost like having a pet cat. A pet cat that wouldn’t let you near him.

“Let’s trap him,” Bryan suggested.

So we delved into research: Is it possible to socialize a feral cat? There are a two wildly divergent schools of thought. One says no, it is not possible to socialize a feral cat. Not only is it not possible, it’s harmful to the cat, who is a wild animal with its own territory and community. The most humane practice is to trap, neuter and release the cat– not try to adopt it.

But the other side says it is possible to socialize a feral cat with time, patience and a specific set of practices. Multiple people report socializing multiple cats with great success.

It would have been easier to go to the shelter to adopt a cat. But Bryan is smitten with Gray the Cat, and I too am susceptible to his charms. So on Wednesday, when Gray the Cat sauntered in the house expecting his dinner, I closed the door behind him.

Gray the Cat went batshit, jumping from window to (closed) window. Then he settled himself by the door and glared at me. I left to buy food and cat litter. When I returned, he was ensconced in a lair under the couch. For the first 24 hours, that is where he remained. He didn’t come out to eat or pee. (I’m pretty sure he peed under the couch, but you’re not supposed to disturb the lair.)

I trapped Gray on Wednesday. On Thursday night, when I was at flag practice, he emerged to eat and drink. This was a relief: Gray wasn’t on a hunger strike.

On Friday evening, he emerged from his lair while we were making pizza, but very briefly. That night, he shat in the kitchen and pissed on the couch. I’d read that feral cats don’t understand the concept of a litter box, and that it helps to mix dirt, leaves and some of their poop in with the litter so they understand, THIS IS WHERE YOUR CRAP GOES.

I did that and put the litter box on the couch pee-spot, and last night, he shat in the box like a good cat. Today, JUST NOW, he emerged from the lair and had a stroll around the house before retreating. This seems like a big step, because a lot of the cat socialization blogs report that it usually takes a couple weeks for them to feel safe enough to do that.

So, that’s where we stand on the Feral Cat Socialization Experiment. More updates forthcoming.

I have read thousands — probably TENS of thousands — of press releases during my five-plus years as a newspaper editor. I’ve also written and edited press releases, pro bono, for friends and nonprofits. So that should qualify me to dispense this unsolicited advice.

One thing journalists want to know is WHY? I’ll start by telling you WHY you should send out press releases when you are doing something, well, newsworthy, because I’ve noticed a number of organizations ignore traditional news outlets in favor of social media.

Social media is great. I love the internets! I’m on them RIGHT NOW. But the reach of your own personal social media networks is limited. And we know this. It’s why the number-one tip for new bloggers is “Do guest posts! Comment on other blogs!” Other channels reach audiences that yours doesn’t. And so do newspapers and television stations. They are huge, high-traffic outlets just waiting to connect you with new readers, fans, customers, groupies….

So do you HAVE to write a press release targeting newspapers and magazines? No. But why wouldn’t you want to? First, the process of writing a press release clarifies your purpose. It makes you distill your event down to its essence. It requires you to tell your story in a way that’s snappy and memorable. Sounds like a great exercise, even if it results in zero news coverage. Plus, you can always pop your shiny new press release on your website on a page called “Media Info.” That way, it benefits anyone who visits your site.

But what if you don’t want to do all this work without a payoff? I hear you. I know what a time-suck it can be to fire off a thoughtful, personal, thoughtfully crafted pitch only to receive a form rejection (or, more commonly, no response at all).

However. The payoff with press releases is often intangible. The real payoff is this: Now a gatekeeper in the media knows who you are. What you’re doing. And how to get in touch with you. THESE ARE THE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO KNOW YOU. Even if they just scan your email and press delete, your message will register in some part of their brains. Because it is their JOB to know about people in their area who are doing things related to their beats.

Case study: Last week, me, my publisher and associate publisher sat down to brainstorm for a feature on local style-makers. We threw out the first names that crossed our minds. Plenty of those people had sent me press releases that I hadn’t responded to. But I still read their emails and took note of what was happening. Then in the meeting, I could be all, “Oh, yeah, she’s got a lot going on. New book release, a prominent blog, events… yeah, definitely put HER on the list.”

That is what you want. And that is why you should write a press release.

Of course, if you do a fantastic job, have a great story, impeccable timing and a huge dash of luck, you might actually strike editorial gold and GET FREE PUBLICITY — which obviously is the number-one answer to why you need a press release. More on that jackpot in part two: HOW TO WRITE A PRESS RELEASE

P.S. If you’re in the NOLA area and want free marketing advice from a socially responsible PR agency TODAY (Feb. 5, 2015), hit up HERO Farm‘s Marketing Happy Hour Event from 4 p.m.-6 p.m. at World of Beer (4100 Veterans Memorial Blvd.). These guys are solid. I interviewed them in 2012 for Gambit, when they were honored as one of our 40 under 40 achievers, and endorse them wholeheartedly.